


Cellphones

by purplekitte



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplekitte/pseuds/purplekitte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many mystery and/or horror plots ceased to work after the invention of the cellphone. After a few further years, it got pretty silly for them to always be out of battery/range whenever our heroes needed them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cellphones

“Hawkeye, oh thank God, Roy wasn’t picking up.”

“We’re still on the plane and he’s asleep.”

“Whatever.” Riza’s eyes widened fractionally at his brusqueness. Hughes occasionally called her when Mustang was refusing to answer to the phone, but he didn’t sound playfully exasperated or in an Elysia-induced haze--he sounded terrified and hurried. “Listen to me or get him on, whichever’s faster.”

“What’s wrong?”

Hughes didn’t answer for a while and when he did he was breathing heavily, like he’d been running. “Fuhrer Bradley’s and the whole top brass in Central are in on a conspiracy in exchange for vague promises of immortality. The entire country’s a transmutation circle for making a giant philosopher’s stone with all the border wars in the last five hundred years marking the points on it,” he said all in a rush. “They were running Laboratory Five and are working with homunculi with the ourborous marks Edward mentioned.”

Riza reeled but the icy steadiness she’d developed in Ishval took over. “Where are you?” What had he been doing so late at night anyway?

“I just escaped from headquarters. I cut up a homuncula with nails like knives and almost got cornered by a shapeshifter. Tell Roy. Tell Roy everything.”

“Of course. Just keep running.”

“They’ll know I got in contact with you once they get the records from the phone company. Every known associate of yours is in danger as a hostage or more if they think they know. Warn Gracia what happened.”

His breath was coming heavier, like he was biting back gasps of pain. “Are you injured?”

“Just grazes.” Which she took to mean he was saying he’d only been shot a little. “I need to dump my phone before they trace its GPS chip. They might have tapped the call already. I’ll contact you later from a new number once I get out of Central.

“Keep changing cabs.”

“I know. I’ll be in the place where we found those terra cotta frogs.” He was going to East then.

She stared at the ‘Call ended’ on the Skype application until her screensaver turn on. Then she reached across the aisle and shook Mustang awake. “Colonel. Colonel. Roy.”

“Huh? What?”

She pulled him out of his seat--he hadn’t properly fastened his seatbelt--and towards the back of the plane. There were no flight attendants hanging around, but she stuffed them both in one of the tiny bathrooms stalls anyway.

“I appreciate if you want membership to the mile high club, lieutenant, but are you sure this is the--”

“We need to get off this plane right now or we will not like what we find on the ground.”

“Off the plane. Before it lands.”

“Either you pull some clever alchemy off the internet that will let us fly, do some alchemy on the plane that will necessitate an emergency landing on short notice, or we find parachutes on this civilian flight. Or we go with the military police that will be waiting on the ground by then.”

“How do you know that?”

“Check your phone.”

In the cramped confines and with a lot of elbows, he maneuvered his iPhone out of his pocket. The phone part was turned off but it was still connected to the in-flight wifi. “Why do I have twenty missed calls from Maes on Skype? And a new, unsigned email in my in- rather than spam-box that reads ‘We have potential use of your alchemy. If you cooperate, we’ll let your subordinates live for now.’”


End file.
